Touch
by Hunger4Righteousness
Summary: Having grown up unwanted and unloved, there are a lot of new experiences that Megamind is going to have to get used to. Roxanne tells how she went about getting him used to one of the most basic...being touched.
1. Roxanne Begins

How many men in their early thirties do you know that have never been touched? I don't mean incidental brushes, but meaningfully and positively touched by another person. Sure, I knew he got manhandled in prison and school in all the wrong ways, so when I hugged Megamind, it didn't surprise me he wasn't responding right away. In fact he tensed up a little, probably not quite sure what to think. It took a moment before he carefully put his arms around me and relaxed. Once he was hugging me back though, it was hard to get him to let go again enough so that I could even look at him.

"You're not used to this."

"Well," glancing away from me with a slight shrug, he seemed kind of uncomfortable admitting it, "no, I'm not." Then he directed those startlingly green eyes into mine. "But that doesn't mean that I don't like it, Roxanne."

I smiled at him. All these little steps. It was going to be a process, the two of us learning to be together. We were both ready for it though. There were times I was so very ready, it was hard not to push him too fast into doing things I was pretty sure he wanted but wasn't quite prepared for. Me, I was ready for…well, almost anything by this time, but he was still at the starting line. He needed to learn how to let himself be touched.

For various reasons, this blue alien had been driving me insane for years. What can I say? I knew there was this incredible magnetic attraction between us, but how are you supposed to get close to a villain, let alone one you only see when he has you tied up on a chair, pretending he's threatening your life, or when he's dangling in defeat at the end of a hero's massively beefy arm? So I did my job as repeat victim and reporter the best I could and kept stuffing those feelings down. A lot of times I even purposely acted like I didn't find him attractive, didn't think about him all the time, didn't want him _right now_. It was easier that way, going to the opposite extreme of what I really felt. You can probably guess how well that was working out though.

After the battle with Hal – yeah, I know, Titan or "Tighten" as the idiot thought his name was spelled – when Megs finally got his chance to be the good guy and succeeded beyond all our expectations, we finally connected the dots. Despite the messiness of pretending to be Bernard so he could see me on the sly, it was obvious we both really wanted to be together, and we finally had the opportunity now that he and Minion were set to be "the good guys". Good guys can date! Villains…not so much.

I think he was really worried at first that I was still so angry with him over 'the Bernard affaire' as we called it, that I'd never forgive him. So I set about reassuring him that this was the beginning and not the end. Oh yeah, I was mad at first. That night I thought I wanted to kill him, since I had no idea what he was up to. All I knew was that he'd been tricking me, and it was incredibly embarrassing, can I tell you? And the whole issue of trust had me pinned down for a time too. I think watching him risk his life to save mine was what finally convinced me he wasn't just attracted to me physically, hadn't been just messing with me or trying to get a little action by pretending to be human.

So. Here he is, my sheltered blue boyfriend. Just past thirty, grown up without any parents, in prison where touching is always a no-no. A super villain that people have always recoiled from all his life, let alone an alien whose lovely blue skin some people are literally afraid to even brush against. And a fish for a best friend. Fish aren't very touchable, have you ever noticed? In fact, most fish (and I realize Minion isn't really a fish) have a sort of protective coating over their scales, and they shouldn't be handled so as not to disturb that covering. Minion is such a sweetheart it's hard for me not to reach over and try to give him a squeeze now and then, but that mecha suit he uses as a body isn't very conducive to hugs either, even with the ape fur. I have left a lip print or two on his dome, and he always blushes at that quite nicely, but it's just not the same. *sigh* Yeah, so there's me too. Repressing all those feelings for years and then thinking he'd let me down over the whole Bernard affaire, and finally in the end having Megamind all to myself…and still having to hold back for his sake. At least a little. I didn't want to make him have a total meltdown. He was going through enough changes in his life as it was. However, it was time to start breaking in my new acquisition! (Insert evil laugh here. Megs says mine is pretty good.)

The first time I hugged him, he was Bernard. So that didn't count. I figured all those times as Bernard, even the kiss in the restaurant, didn't count. And he was still constantly wearing his gloves back then. I only realized much later that even when I was holding Bernard's hand, Megamind was wearing the gloves. The hard light projection made it feel like a hand to me, but there was no skin to skin at all. The first time I really touched him as himself was when we both were standing in the fountain, and Hal was groaning on the street looking like a deflated balloon. By the way, I really wanted to go over and give him a few kicks while he was down, but I figured that wouldn't look very good to the public. Seeing Megamind realize his potential and defeat that rotten creep and actually win for the first time in his poor abused life…of course I threw my arms around him! That's about the time I also realized you don't put your life on the line for someone you only have the hots for. The whole Bernard affaire made a lot more sense. He'd been holding back too, and I knew how difficult that was becoming – for both of us. It's just he had the ability to figure out a way to be with me and the temptation was too much. So as far as being angry with him, I was ready to let it go right then. Trusting him again…I was willing to at least give him the benefit of the doubt and another chance in return for saving my life. Sounds like a fair exchange, right?

After all the excitement died down, and he started putting the city back together, we managed to find some time to be alone in the evenings when he'd down tools and stop work for the day. The brainbots did a lot of the reconstruction, but they had to be directed constantly. He was dragging himself back to the lair pretty worn out. I won't forget the night he fell asleep with his head on my lap. It was near the end of all the rebuilding and the museum opening was coming up. We were sitting on the couch talking about it, and his eyelids were drooping even as we sat chatting. I mentioned how tired he looked. He just heaved a huge sigh and leaned against my shoulder. Now this is pretty good for the guy who was still getting used to the idea that he could hold my hand when he wanted to. So I kissed his head and told him to lie down, then I just stroked his temples, trying not to laugh at the way he began practically purring under my fingers, and watched him go to sleep. Yes, he does have an enormous bald head, but it just doesn't bother me. I don't find it grossly out of proportion or even all that strange. It's just him. While he slept, I was able to study him. His skin is really smooth. Obviously he's not a hairy guy, but he's not girly soft either. You can feel all the nice fit muscles under his skin – oh man, very fit! - and even though he's pretty slender, there is plenty of muscling. Oh, that was also the night I found out about his ears.

I sat there looking at him, lying on the couch with his head on my lap, totally relaxed. I hadn't seen him like that before, and I realized his many, very lively facial expressions are a huge part of his personality and charm. Not that he wasn't amazingly attractive to me even while he was asleep. Apparently he found the head massage very soothing. He was out like a light in no time, but I kept slowly stroking along his temples, across his brow, along his cheek and down his goatee. I like that thing. A lot. And it was a suggestion of mine that made him grow it, but that's a story for another time. Anyway, when I happened to trail along his jaw to his ear and around it, he frowned a bit in his sleep. That's interesting, I thought, so I tried it again. He sort of moaned a little and turned on his side and wrapped one of his long arms around my legs. Ah ha! I must have looked like a wicked little minx sitting there, trying really hard not to chuckle out loud and waiting for him to get all relaxed again. Then I stroked right up and down the edge of his ear. That woke him up! He sat up, looking at me wide-eyed, and blushed.

"What…what are you doing?"

Even biting my lip, I couldn't hide my smile by this time. "Well, I was trying to help you sleep, but I...I think I discovered a way to wake you up instead." You should have seen his ears turn pink! I have to admit I did giggle at him a little, but he looked so cute. I put my arms around his waist and snuggled my head against his neck, and we just sat on the couch holding each other that way until he wasn't feeling as embarrassed anymore. It took a while. I was sure he liked it at least a little because I could hear the smile in his voice when he muttered, "Roxanne, you are such a naughty little seductress…" Of course I had to snicker at him again.

But I've jumped ahead of myself.

Getting him used to being touched was fun but not all that easy. At first, every time I'd put so much as a hand on him, his brain seemed to check out and he would just stare at me with those big eyes, like he was still in shock knowing someone (maybe me in particular) was willing to make contact with his body. Those puppy eyes always made me want to kiss him, which I did a few times, but that turned off his brain completely and it also made the staring worse the next few times I touched him. So then I realized what he needed was to be able to take casual skin to skin contact for granted like the rest of us. Not a problem. I decided I would do that by sheer overload of stimulation. In other words, I just touched him all the time. If he was sitting down working, I'd put my hands on his shoulders. If we were walking somewhere, I'd hold his hand. While we talked, my fingers would trace along his arm. It really took longer than I expected, but dang if I wasn't enjoying it anyway! Later he admitted it was incredibly hard to concentrate during my desensitization program, but it worked. At least to a degree. I can still make him stop in his tracks when I really feel like it.

One of the first problems we had to address was his reluctance to take the gloves off. He was so used to wearing them all the time – I mean ALL the time – that I started just pulling them off him myself when he wasn't working and was alone with me, otherwise he would have kept them on. Once he got used to the idea, he whipped them off pretty quick himself when we were together. I think that from early on in his career, wearing them had become part of how he protected himself. Not just from all the welding and building and work he does with his hands but from the pain of knowing people didn't want to touch him. Can you imagine growing up without hugs or holding someone's hand when you were scared and knowing that how different you looked from everyone else made them not want to touch you? The gloves became a kind of emotional safety barrier. He'd probably never admit it, but I think he had started to believe it himself – that he was untouchable. That he might hurt others as much as they hurt him if he got close to them. The gloves were a kind of 'keep out' sign he had posted on his body. When I first thought about all that, it bothered me a lot, and I was determined to get past his gloves. Once I did I found out something I hadn't expected. All those years of wearing them had had a different kind of side effect. His hands were very, very sensitive. And as you can imagine, that made things very interesting!

* * *

><p><em>Author notes:<em>

_This is my first attempt at writing in first person. Just fleshing out some ideas I tossed around with a friend in some PMs here. I have no idea where this is going, but if it continues it may switch back and forth to being in first person from Megamind's point of view too. _


	2. Figuring Him Out

"Touch it."

"No."

I rolled my eyes. "Would you just touch it already?"

"No way! It's…it's all…fuzzy." He made a face, and I laughed.

"We're not leaving until you put your hand right here and-"

"Roxanne! We're in a public park. What if somebody sees me doing this?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake! Here!" I put it in his hand and almost died laughing at the look on his face.

"Oh…my…gosh…"

"Megamind! It's a caterpillar! It's not going to kill you."

His face was contorting into the most amazing expressions as the little woolly bear crawled around on his palm. "It's…feet… They're like….tiny torture devices!" He groaned. "Roxanne, get it off before I fling it to kingdom come!"

I was still cracking up, but I took it back and let it march down my arm instead. "Didn't you ever find these as a kid and play with them? I used to all the time. They're all over the place. I can't believe there wouldn't have been a few that made their way into the prison yard." I seem to remember the park was full of them that day.

"Maybe. I don't remember. If I did, I've probably blocked it out." He shuddered.

I looked at him and wondered if he had trouble touching anything fuzzy or if it was just something about caterpillars. If it was the former, we were going to have problems later on.

He looked at his hands, flexing them. "I never would have guessed that wearing the gloves all the time would make my hands that sensitive." He reached over and gently twirled a strand of my hair around his finger, which was pretty bold for him at that point. "I can touch you and it doesn't bother me, but that thing…" He stuck out his tongue watching it crawl down my forearm, then he nudged it off onto the grass with a quick flick of his finger. "I almost can't stand seeing it on you."

"Must be the feet."

"Must be. They felt scratchy and…sticky…bleh."

I try as much as possible not to laugh at him, but the guy is just funny, you know? I mean, sometimes he's trying to be funny and other times, he just _is_ funny. He doesn't ever get too upset when I slip up and giggle though. Unless he decides to angle for an "I'm sorry" kiss. I've seen him pull that trick before. And I oblige, of course.

One of the biggest mental hurdles for him seemed to be getting used to the idea that I wasn't turned off by the color of his skin. It boggled my mind to think he even felt that way. I know it's a "unique hue", to put it nicely considering what some people would call it, and it certainly stands out in a crowd, but you have to admit he is the most beautiful shade of blue. I honestly just love looking at him sometimes because of his color. And yet, he didn't get that for a long time.

"But I'm blue."

"Yes…I know you're blue. I'm tan. And there are black people on this planet too, and all kinds of other shades…"

"But they belong here, and they're not alone. Who else here is blue?"

"Well, there was that guy on Good Morning America who drank too much colloidal silver."

He ignored that. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"No. Megamind…I _like_ it that you're blue. I'm not just putting up with it." I touched the back of his hand that was propping him up as we sat on a blanket in the park that same day. "I love your color."

"Why?" He was genuinely perplexed. I think all the years of being stared at and taken for a freak and knowing, or at least assuming, it was because of his big head and his skin had convinced him that no one would ever see it any other way. He used to spout off so much about being the "incredibly handsome criminal genius", but now I know that it was all a big bluff, exactly the opposite of what he really thought of himself. Sad doesn't begin to describe how I felt when I finally realized that. I wished he could be proud of how he looks, precisely because nobody else looks like him. He's one of a kind, and isn't that supposed to be a good thing? Don't we try to hammer that message into kids in school, telling them to be themselves instead of trying to be like everybody else? But I guess for some people, you can be too unique. Well not for me. And definitely not about him.

"All right, let's turn it around… Your hands are so sensitive that when you touch me you can feel every little flaw, can't you? Every wrinkle and bump and spot…everything." He couldn't lie and say no because we both knew it was true. We'd found out those fingers could detect much more than human hands could. "Doesn't it bother you? Don't you wish I was different?"

"No." He said it pretty forcefully. Seeing him frowning at me slightly, I could tell he hadn't gotten the point yet. "I don't want you to be different in any way. Everybody has flaws, but yours aren't…they're just part of you. And I like you just the way you are."

"There you go then," I told him quietly. "I would say the same about you. Except I would never, _ever_ call the color of your skin a flaw." I picked up his hand and interlaced our fingers, smiling at the alternating colors and then at him. "It's part of what makes you you." That made him smile. "And you do belong here. With me."

He looked at our hands and back at me. Then he reached over and put his other hand behind my neck to draw me closer and give me a kiss. "How can you possibly be so sweet?" He hasn't mentioned his color as a bad thing since, and I still notice his skin all the time. It never gets old.

Ok now, I know I keep talking about how much trouble he's had being touched, and then I mention us kissing. You're probably wondering what that's all about because it sounds like a contradiction, doesn't it? I mean, kissing ranks right up there on the list of most intimate kinds of touches you can get, so it seems like he really ought to have shied away from doing it. The answer is, I'm not really sure why but kissing has just never bothered him all that much. Ok, it's never bothered him at all. And thank God! Because this had been building up for so long, I felt like I was going to pop if I couldn't start to get at least a little smooching in on him after the Titan battle. My guess is he was feeling the same way, so kissing just naturally felt like more of a relief than a threat right off the bat. Plus, there wasn't any danger or hurt from it in prison (despite what you might be wondering, he wasn't ever abused that way; the warden tried hard to do right by him in some sense) or at school or anywhere else, so it's been left mostly untouched in his mind as far as bad associations.

The other strange thing is that even though his hands and other areas of his skin are hypersensitive, his lips seem to be about the same as ours. Yeah, kissing him turns him on and a lot of times he majorly blanks out for a while afterward, but we can indulge in quite a bit of it without him about jumping out of his skin the way he does if I tickle his ear or the back of his neck just right.

The first time I kissed him – and I already said that restaurant kiss didn't count – he was trying to apologize for the being Bernard. It was the same day he saved the city, and me, from Titan. We'd finally finished with all the hoopla over making sure Hal was safely carted away to jail and briefly met with the mayor right there on the street, and I even managed to get a cameraman sent down from the station so I could do a quick and dirty (literally, because that fountain water was not that clean) report on what had happened for my network and for Megamind's sake too. And this was after that terrible night before with our failed date and then being up half the night upset and everything that happened the next day. We were _exhausted_ by the end of it all and had finally arrived back at my apartment to find it, well, basically trashed. Hal had been there at some point looking for me. It wasn't totally destroyed. There was just a lot of cleaning up and clearing out that needed to be done, but poor Megs looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock. What a day for him! It had been one huge rollercoaster ride of almost dying, me almost dying, Minion almost dying (ok, he was pretending), saving the city and being proclaimed the new hero, and yet knowing it was all his own doing. Like most brilliant people, he has a funny way of being a little dense at odd times – which usually ends up being hilarious, let me tell you – but there was no doubt he understood all the implications of what had happened, and he took it all on himself. Seeing my apartment was kind of a sucker punch when we had thought we'd reached the end of that long day. Two days really.

"Well, we should have expected it, I guess," I tried to tell him.

He picked up the shreds of a sofa pillow that looked like it had exploded and stared at it dejectedly. "This is my fault too."

"No, it's not. It's Hal's fault."

He gave me a look that said he wasn't buying it. "I gave him those powers."

"But you didn't make his decisions for him. He chose to go bad and do this after you trained him to be a _hero_. You gave him every chance to be an amazingly good person, but he chose this." He didn't look like he felt any better about it. Just stood there, frowning over the whole place like he didn't know where to start fixing it all. "Ok, look. I know you made a mistake…"

"Roxanne," he moved over to me and took my hand (still wearing gloves at this point), "I want to tell you how sorry I am. Right now."

I just looked at him. I really didn't want to hear this. I didn't need him to grovel, and I just wanted to be done with it. But maybe he needed to say it, I didn't know. "Ok, but if you apologize, then I have to too."

That made him pause. He glanced away and back again. "For what?"

"For everything I said." I'd kicked myself repeatedly over the nasty things I'd let fly while I was angry that night.

"It was what I deserved."

"No, it wasn't. I should never have said those things, Megamind. I didn't mean them. I was angry and I…" I really felt ashamed admitting it, "…I wanted to hurt you."

He smiled ruefully. "Well… it worked."

But unlike me, he hadn't held any grudges about it. He thought he deserved to be hurt. That's how he'd grown up, what he's always been told. And that's when I kissed him. Man, I was just aching to kiss him anyway and seeing his self-depreciating, crooked little sad smile pushed me over the edge. I wanted so much to tell him that I would forgive him everything, and that he didn't need to be punished any more as far as I was concerned.

I told you we were both primed for it, but it must have been kind of a surprise when I wrapped my arms around him for the second time that day and told him, "I don't want to be angry anymore," and pressed my mouth against those blue lips that had been tempting me for years. And yeah, it took half a moment for him to kiss me back, but when he did…well, let's just say we went from 0 to 60 in about 5 seconds. Can you blame us? Think about it! I mean, all that time we'd waited and all the misunderstandings we'd had, plus we had that whole "escaped with our lives" adrenaline aftermath too. It was pretty devastating. Definitely a first kiss to write in your diary about – a sort of desperate-for-you, nose-smashing, trying all angles and some nibbling too, heavy breathing, well-lubricated, can't-get-enough-of-you kiss.

So! When we eventually disengaged from _that, _and I looked at him, it was kind of a shock. Poor guy. He was just so shattered. He looked like he didn't know what to think anymore. That's when I knew that, really, it had all been too much. And something like that kiss, even as good as it was, was just about more than he could handle at that point on top of everything else. So I steered him to the couch and sat him down, then I plopped down beside him and put my arms around him, and we just sat there leaning against each other, waiting for Minion to come back. That's when I started thinking more in depth about why it always took a moment for him to return my hugs and what kinds of things he must not be used to. Maybe that kiss had been a mistake. "Sorry about that."

"No!" He held onto me a little tighter like I might jump up and run off or something. "No, don't be sorry. I'm…I'm sorry if I'm not responding the way I should…"

I kind of laughed, I think. "Um, well, that seemed like a pretty good response to me! But actually, I think since you've been through a lot today-"

"Well, so have you."

True. I had, and maybe I wasn't seeing things as clearly as I thought I was. "We'll just…take a step back. Right?"

He looked at me, a little concerned at that suggestion. "As long as we don't step too far back."

"No," I smiled at him. "Not far at all." I thought he was about to kiss me again. Except Minion came in.

But this is supposed to be about his hands and getting used to being touched.

Maybe some of it does just have to do with me. And I only started wondering that when I sent him to get a massage. Sounds like a strange thing to do, I'm sure, but this is the guy who's lived in a secret hideout with nobody but a fish in a mechanical ape suit for much of his life. You think he's ever had a massage or even a friendly back rub? Not likely.

So, one evening still in the middle of reconstruction, I just happened to unthinkingly start rubbing his shoulders (no, really, it was unthinkingly) while we were talking about something on the news, and he tensed up immediately. I stopped and asked if I was hurting him, if his shoulders were sore, but he just kind of looked back at me. "No. It's just…that kind of makes me nervous."

Good nervousness or bad nervousness I wasn't sure, and I was going to just stop, but then, considering I'd started that desensitization idea, I told him, "Megamind, I promise I'm not going to hurt you. Just try to relax." He did his best and after a while, he started enjoying it. And he needed it. All that new responsibility? He was wound up tighter than a spring. While he was working on that, I wondered what the heck would make him nervous about a shoulder rub? For some reason, a whole series of images came to mind – seeing him dangling from Wayne's big fist, by his neck, a lot of times. Wayne liked the way that looked in the photos. Thinking about him as a kid being hauled to the corner, the teacher's hand griping his collar. She would never have wanted to actually touch his skin of course. And once I could imagine her doing that, for some reason I could see the Warden taking young Megs back to his cell with a hand on his shoulder or the back of his neck too. He'd never been touched there nicely. So it made sense his neck and shoulders were sort of danger areas for him. That's when I thought of the massage. Now, I love getting a good massage. They're so relaxing. And I was sure he'd never had one professionally if he couldn't even unbend for a friendly shoulder rub. But it seemed like a good way of making him have a positive association with being touched, don't you think? So I set it up and just made him go to the appointment, not without listening to a lot of griping and complaining. "They're _pro-fessionals_!" I told him. "And they know who you are, and it's a privilege for them to have you as a client. They'll probably mention it in all their advertising from now on."

"Oh, I can see it now. A photo of me with a caption under it that says something like, he might walk out of here looking black and blue, but you won't."

I almost kicked him. "Get in there..." I made him give me the de-gun first. Later he came out looking thoughtful. "Well? How was it? What did you think?" I'd been to these guys myself before, and they really are good at what they do.

"It was…interesting. Um, not bad."

I smiled. That sounded like progress. "Great! See, it feels good, doesn't it?"

He turned to me, "I think I'd rather just have you do it, Roxanne."

I stared at him. There's no way the amateur back rub I gave him could compare to the expert rubdown I was sure he'd just had. "But why?" For a second I wondered if the masseur hadn't acted professionally toward him, and I was ready to go back there and give them hell if that was the case. The fact he was giving me those goofy doe eyes again kind of clued me in that that probably wasn't the problem.

"I'd just rather be touched by you." And see, this is why I was having problems sleeping at night. Because comments like that made me want to just throw him to the ground and jump on him…but I couldn't. Not yet. So the desensitization continued. And yes, I was more than willing to give him shoulder massages and back rubs on a regular basis. He warmed up to those in no time. In fact, sometimes he couldn't get past feeling my hands on his shoulders, and he'd just grab one and guide me around to sit on his lap and we'd have a little schnoodling session instead. Not that I minded that at all! Oh yes, he was making progress. It was when I suggested he might return the favor, as far as massaging... that's when we hit the next roadblock.


	3. Megamind Explains

"You know, _you_ could try giving _me_ a massage for once. It's not like I'd mind."

And it's not like I hadn't thought of it, but, um…well. I was hesitating for a reason. And not because I was timid about touching her or wasn't sure I could figure out how to do it or even because I was just selfish and couldn't be bothered to return her warm gestures. She's been giving me these wonderful, amazing shoulder rubs lately…oh, the woman has incredible fingers. And, yes, it had crossed my mind at least a time or two that I ought to return the favor. But… there was a reason I hadn't.

I am aware that many people think I must be extremely backward due to the sort of life I've lived. And I can't deny that there are a lot of experiences that other people take for granted that I haven't had much of or simply haven't had yet at all. Due to my obvious alienness, those around me have been reluctant to interact with me in the ways humans normally do with each other, which I guess is common knowledge. I suppose people can't be blamed for assuming I'm callow. Or unsophisticated. Sheltered at least. Fastidious, some think, as though I'm some dandy who'd never get his hands dirty! Well, Roxanne says they _can_ be blamed for assuming such things (and she gets rather upset which can be so cute). But I find her far more open-minded than your average, run-of-the-mill citizen, and kind besides. I'm extremely grateful for her patience and understanding…and I can tell you I have enjoyed her attention immensely. If the difficulties arising from living a sheltered life has at least allowed me this, it was worth it.

However inexperienced I may be, naïve I am not. Prison life and my singularly alien appearance might have prevented me from engaging in many of the usual physical encounters others take for granted, but that doesn't necessarily mean I was completely lacking in knowledge of the world. I did grow up here on Earth from infancy. Even jailbirds have televisions and most other common media devices readily available to them, not to mention good old-fashioned books, and I made extensive use of them all. Plus, Minion and I escaped fairly early to make our way out in the world, and it wasn't as though we holed up in the evil lair and never saw the light of day again. And neither am I particularly squeamish or fearful… I'm just not very used to certain things yet. Apart from that, personal preference always plays a role. For instance, I just happen to _not_ _like_ caterpillars crawling on me. And I'm _sure_ I'm not the only one!

Logically it does seem to follow that the lack of certain types of stimulation might lead one to be more sensitive to them later on. So most likely Roxanne is at least partly right in thinking that wearing my gloves all the time led to my hands being the way they are now, extra sensitive. But there's something else that has exacerbated my…heightened responsivity, shall we say? I'm male.

Men respond quickly. To a lot of things (not everything), but particularly to women. We all know this of course. That's part of why the population continues to grow! And yet, for me – and I'm not sure why; if it's due to the circumstances of my life or is related to my particular physiology, and since there are no others of my kind here I can only guess based on my subjective observations – it's not just being responsive to all women, even though I can appreciate a feminine form as much as the next man. But I am particularly and acutely responsive to Roxanne.

I've known this for a long time. I can't explain to you what it was like when I first kidnapped her after having noticed she was the one Metro Man always turned to to make his sagacious (I'm being sarcastic) comments after our battles. On television, she fascinated me. In person, she was _magnetic_. And from the earliest encounters we had, I maintained a fairly strict no-touching policy toward her. It certainly wasn't due to lack of desire or even fear of being rebuked. More than anything, I wasn't sure I could manage not to lose control of my own reactions. And I respected her far too much to risk that happening for both our sakes.

Now, after Hal decided he'd rather not be the hero I made him to be and everything in my life changed as a result, I realize Roxanne came to a decision to help me overcome my inexperience and hypersensitivity. It's true – I was not used to being touched, and that was a social handicap and possibly even a hindrance to my new, much more publicly involved role as the city's defender. I quickly acquiesced to her desensitization program, not only for my own good, but…yes, I must admit, it was mostly because it was so mind-blowingly pleasurable as well. Honestly I couldn't give a fig for touching the rest of Metrocity, but after holding back for so long from having any contact with her, it was heavenly. And it's taken quite a long time to learn to have a sort of understated reaction to her touching me, but I can assure you the feelings are still there, just below the surface. Have you ever seen two magnets "get used to" each other? No, neither have I.

And so we come to the point at which she wondered aloud if I might consider giving _her_ shoulders a massage. * sigh* Well, I knew I should, and I knew it might require a herculean effort on my part to not simply disintegrate into a pleading, begging mess at her feet or fall to ravaging her neck like some depraved vampire. This was when I became particularly aware of how much of a disadvantage my sensitive hands were. When we kissed and I could put my arms around her, it was helpful (and not very difficult) to ignore my hands by concentrating instead on her lips. Those soft, sweet, tender lips pressing mine…mhmmm...well, you get the idea. But with nothing else to think about, putting only my hands on her was going to seriously challenge my ability to control my reactions. Because for most men, touching a woman causes their brain to receive a signal that travels up from the hands something along the lines of, "Oh yes…this is very nice! I would definitely like more of this!" But for me, the message coming from my hands upon touching my lovely little reporter is more like this: "OH GOD! IT'S ROXANNE! I MUST HAVE HER NOW!" So you see my dilemma.

But I had to try. No, the gloves weren't allowed either. She'd already set the limits on those, and I can't blame her. She didn't want me to keep using them as a crutch or want me to be touching her with them on all the time. Even I had to admit that would have been a little perverse.

"You know I haven't done this before," I reminded her just before placing my hands at her shoulders.

"Really? I figured you probably had women lined up around the block every Tuesday to get massages."

"Oh, ha ha."

She laughed. She always laughs at me, but I never mind. "I'm not expecting perfection. Just think about how I've been doing it and try to do the same thing."

It sounded easy enough, and I really didn't have a problem with the mechanics of it all. I guessed the idea is to slowly and gently ease the tension out of the muscles by using pressure and stroking thereby allowing the person to relax and also enjoy the experience. Right. But as soon as my fingers touched her shoulders, my knees got weak and all I could think about was the softness and warmth of her skin under my hands…and wondering how much softer other parts of her must be… my lovely Roxanne… _Stop it_, I told myself and moved to gently manipulate her neck muscles. _Look how slender her neck is, but the muscles still feel quite strong…and they're sooo nice to kiss… _That was dangerous territory, so I tried a totally different tactic. Balancing a complex chemical equation in my head. Good idea, right? No. Fail. Not only didn't it balance, but I think I broke the law of conservation of mass in a spectacular way. As I stroked slowly and firmly down the back of her neck, some scent she had on was released by the friction of my hands against her skin. Maybe it was her perfume or soap - she always smells good. It could have been the shampoo from her hair… _oh, I love to run my fingers through it when I kiss her….Back to the shoulders! It's safer there!_ Or so I thought. It was when I was gently squeezing those nice trapezius muscles where her neck and shoulder meet…and I didn't _really_ mean to, but I couldn't help noticing how her blouse moved when I did that and I had a nice view right down… _Gah! LOOK AWAY!_ I was feeling kind of light-headed and it was getting hard to breathe when she did about the worst thing she could possibly do…she moaned.

"…wow… you're _really_ good at this…"

That's when I collapsed.

"Megs? Where'd you go? You stopped."

I dragged myself around on my knees to face her and took a deep breath. "I can't do it," I croaked. Even though she seemed mostly surprised, she actually looked a little hurt too. "No! No! It's not… oh, Roxanne!" and I just kind of threw myself at her lap and grabbed around her with my arms. You know, I really didn't know how to confess the fact that she absolutely drove me crazy. I hated to sound like a love-sick teenager with raging, out of control hormones or make it seem like there was no way in heaven or on earth I'd ever get past wanting her every time I touched her…but that's how I felt. Pretty hopeless and pretty pathetic. So I looked up at her and blurted it out anyway. At least, I tried. "It's just… so impossible to… I can't not want you every time…and I don't want you to think..."

And there she sat, just watching me with her blue eyes. And smiling her little knowing smile. Then she took my face in her hands. "Megamind… do you know how much I love you?"

"You do?" I suppose that really I did know. Everything she did showed it. But _hearing_ her say it was absolutely breathtaking.

"Yes." Then she kissed me and said it again. "I love you... and I'm not asking you to hold back."

And I thought touching her was mind-blowing. I'm sure I was staring at her as though I hadn't a thought in my head, and that was pretty close to the truth. Thinking wasn't necessary anyway. All I wanted to do was look at her and soak it all up. "Roxanne… I love you."

And what followed was…well, not what you're probably thinking… but it was a little bit of heaven on earth. And I used my hands a lot.


	4. Moving Ahead

_*facepalm* Where do these things come from? This is for Nora and Lynn, and several others who requested it..._

* * *

><p>Oh, fine then. Twist my arm if you must know all about it…<p>

Telling Roxanne that I love her wasn't nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. Of course that might be partly because she made it as easy as falling off a chair (which I nearly did) by confessing first. I mean, I've _known_ that I've been in love with her for a long time, but ever having the chance to be able to tell her that seemed like a long shot at best. Funny how many of my long shots have hit the target lately!

Standing in the wreckage of her apartment, kissing her for the first time… honestly I wasn't quite ready for it. I mean! Of course I was ready for it! Had been for years, but unfortunately I think I may have been suffering from a bit of shock, the after-effects of dealing with one out of control, super-powered maniac I'd created and nearly losing the lives of the two people I care most about in the world. I do remember that kiss very clearly though. It was _mind numbing_. I was never able to look at her the same after that. The memory of the woman I really never thought I could have pressing her mouth and voluptuous body against mine… well, mind numbing, as I already said. And I must have appeared on the outside about as overwhelmed as I felt on the inside, judging by the expression on her face when she looked at me afterward. Her suggestion that we "step back" was sensible. Not that I particularly _wanted_ to be sensible, but I definitely wanted to do whatever she asked of me. So I did step back and stayed there to the best of my ability, which, as I said, took some doing, especially when she started trying to "desensitize" me. But then we come to this happy episode.

She probably could not have paired any other two statements and had more of an effect on me. "I love you" and "don't hold back"... god, Roxanne. You certainly know how to destroy my composure to the nth degree. So there I am, holding onto this goddess that I just about worship, and telling her that I love her, which makes her eyes light up. Did I need any more invitation to kiss her than that? Take a guess. I may be embarrassingly dense at odd times, but not when it comes to moments like this.

If only I could explain what it's like when I put my lips on hers and feel that she's actually kissing me back. That's the amazing thing - that she wants to be with me too. Being so obviously alien hasn't been easy. There are others here, you know – other aliens. Wayne is, for one, although even with his freakishly massive form and ludicrous abilities for the most part he blends in with common folk. I do not. I know there are a lot of individuals, whole groups even, who suffer discrimination due to their color or race or appearance, but at least they have others like themselves to be supported by and commiserate with. I had no one. Even Minion, who is nearly always labeled "cute" and gets fawned over rather disgustingly by his fans these days, in public no less, did not really experience quite the same level of constant and unrelenting rejection that I did from my first days on Earth. I even went to school in chains. I thought I was a monster through and through.

And I'm not trying to gain your pity or even your sympathy. I'm simply telling you why it was, and to some degree still is, extraordinarily wondrous to me when I sense Roxanne so willingly returning my affection. Because I had been conditioned to expect a negative reaction on sight, everywhere I went, from everyone I met. That was normal to me, and so her… acceptance, preference even, for me I found astounding. I suppose disguising myself as Bernard had partly to do with my conviction that she would never be attracted to me as I really am. For while I have to admit with the utmost humility that I do find myself rather handsome, I accept that few others agree with that assessment. However, she is the only one that I care to know for certain does not find me ugly. Beyond that, she assures me she likes the way I look, blue skin and all… She is so very amazing.

So! Back to the scene at hand. I kissed her, practically floating on her words, my brain joyously shouting, "She loves me!", and despite what she'd said about not asking me to hold back, of course I had to. It simply isn't polite to tackle a beautiful woman to the ground and slobber all over her like some crude Neanderthal, no matter how strongly one feels, without taking into consideration _her_ feelings on the matter. This much I was sure of. I'm sure it would have been Hal's style of romance (I shudder to think) but not mine. One of my mentors in prison once explained to me that men may turn on like a light – instantly - but women turn on like an oven – gradually - and a good lover bears that in mind. He was mostly right, but I don't think he was able to take into account a factor that affected Roxanne and I rather forcefully… how long we'd already waited to be together. So I had to find out for myself just exactly where she was at with the whole thing.

"I love you, Roxanne…"

Hearing it, she slid her beautiful hands back toward my neck so that she could gently pull me closer as she leaned down to kiss me, but I was already rising up from my crumpled position at her knees where I'd practically thrown myself despairing that I might have hurt her feelings yet again. More than anything, I hadn't wanted her to think my reluctance to put my hands on her was an indication of not being able to overcome a repugnance to touching her or that, heaven forbid, I just wasn't attracted to her. Just the opposite was true. I wanted to put my hands on her _too_ much. And assuring me she didn't need me to hold back only made it worse. That permission was like adding fuel to a fire. So while I kissed her with the greatest enthusiasm, my fingers tangled in the back of her hair which for some reason I do so love to caress especially when our mouths are busily engaged, I was coaxing her onto _my_ lap and considering just how much I might allow myself to take advantage of her offer. Yes, even then I was still rather reserved. And it only makes sense. Years of training oneself to hold back aren't overcome all at once. But that's when she pulled away from me slightly and said with a little shrug:

"Don't worry about the massage. It's probably too much to expect right now."

Do you think I, of all people, could let an unintentional challenge like that go unanswered? Of course not!

"Oh, I don't intend to give up! But… maybe the problem is my approach," I suggested. "Rather than trying to do it your way, or the way anyone else does, I'm going to have to do it my way."

That's when I had the idea to go get her chair. Yes, I think of it as "her" chair – the one we always made sure was ready for her arrival in my plans, dusted off, spotlight on, etc. I'd even sat in it myself a few times to make sure it wasn't terribly uncomfortable for her. Post-Metro Man, the thing was retired to my personal room since I assumed it wouldn't be used again. It held a lot of memories, that chair. And bringing it out to her, it seemed she was amused at seeing it again as much as skeptical of what I was doing. "Don't worry!" I assured her, "No rope involved... or bags." I motioned to the chair, offering her the seat. With a funny look, she got up from the couch and sat in it.

"Um, Megamind… why exactly am I in the chair again?"

"Because, Roxanne," I explained as I walked around behind her. "This is at least partly about desensitizing me, yes? Helping me to overcome mental barriers? Well," I placed my hands at her shoulders again, "I can tell you that in no other place more than this chair did I work to build barriers to touching you." As I began to gently work those trapezius muscles that had gotten me in trouble before, she visibly relaxed. "Oh yes… there were any number of times that I nearly gave in." Leaning closer to her, I bent to nuzzle her hair and worked my hands slowly down her arms. She obliged by tipping her head my way a bit. I murmured just behind her ear, "You came close to being ravaged far more often than you ever knew."

She actually smiled when I said that. "Then you would have found out a lot sooner just how much I was fighting my feelings for you too. And anyway… it's not too late…"

Well. That hit me like ton of bricks. "Tsk, tsk! Roxanne," I teased her. "Surely you're not trying to tempt me into resuming my former role?" I couldn't resist kissing her earlobe, and I noticed she bit her lip.

"Mmmm, possibly… just for fun."

Ok, it was at about this point that the whole idea of giving her a massage went out the window for a while. All I wanted at that moment was to play "evil villain and his victim" again without the brakes on and find out exactly what would happen! "Well! In that case, my dear Ms Ritchie…" Standing up, I snagged my own chair – it's never far away from me when I'm at home, you know – and rolled around to face her, putting my fingertips together in front of my face. "Maybe we should get out the rope."

She laughed. "No, that's not really what I had in mind." Favoring me with one of her crooked little half smiles, she suggested, "I'm not the one who needs to overcome a fear here."

I leaned closer to her and huffed, pretending to be annoyed. "Are you suggesting I'm _afraid_? Of touching you?"

She shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. "You haven't done much of it yet, Mr. Evil Genius."

"Well… that can be changed… right now," I slowly informed her, rolling the chair closely around her seat and letting my fingers trail up along her right arm and slowly down the left, keeping my voice low near her ear. Yes, I know the effect that has. "But really… I'd like to know exactly what you want." I was facing her again, holding her hand, and I was sincere. I didn't want to make mistakes in this.

"Maybe _I _don't know what I want either. Half the fun is taking the chance and seeing what happens, Megamind." She stroked her fingertips along my cheek, down my chin, and down my neck. Score one for her. But as I picked that hand up and kissed each finger, watching her the whole time, I could see her breath rise and fall more quickly in her chest. It seemed she liked that, so I leaned forward and kissed her lips too. I told you it was easier to not be overwhelmed by the sensations from my hands when I could concentrate on our mouths, so I began letting my hands travel where they would as well. Along her arms, up her neck, slowly down her back and along her hips. It was when I slid both hands up the sides of her thighs that I really got a response from her. It wouldn't be exaggerating to say she practically jumped into my chair with me!

"I think it's a good thing you always did use rope…" she murmured before kissing me again and settling into my arms. It nearly made me laugh out loud. How different our history might have been but for a few strands of cotton!

Oh, it was nice to finally just give in… She was doing her own discovering as well, and I must reiterate that I very much prefer having her touch me than any "professional" masseuse. There's a powerful emotional component, not to mention the physical side of things, stirred up when Roxanne rubs her fingers along my biceps and over my shoulders that no one else could produce in me. (Or if they did, I'd be very uncomfortable with it.) Especially when we're simultaneously practicing some very intense lipwork.

The determination to get a handle on this massaging idea was still in me. And what a good excuse to explore her body anyway (although I was beginning to suspect I barely needed an excuse). I tried working at the base of her skull and the back of her neck in small circles, just gently kneading the muscles there. She has such a lovely neck, long and slender. Using a little more pressure through my fingertips and making slow strokes from her hair down to her shoulder blades seemed to relax her even more. I felt her pull away from my kisses and heard a sigh as her head fell back slightly. Maybe I wasn't too bad at this! And could there have been any better opportunity to ravage that neck? No. There couldn't. So I gave in to that too. Not very hard, mind you, but resisting the urge to bite that pale skin was no longer possible with the whole long expanse of it taunting me there, just in front of my nose, and hearing her pleased little groans from the kneading of my fingers. A few grazes of my teeth and tongue though, and I had her worried.

"Megs… as much as I love this… hickeys don't look good on camera. And turtlenecks look funny in summer..."

Kissing the spots I'd been ravaging, I stopped for a bit to reassure her. "Sweetheart, I would never leave a mark on you." Nuzzling her neck, I told her how much I loved that particular area. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. You're just… too deliciously irresistible, that's all. But I promise not to make any marks on your skin." So I licked her instead. Yes, maybe I was overdoing it, but I told you… Anyway, her shoulders tensed a bit and I know she was trying not to giggle, but the arms around my shoulders definitely pulled me closer and she tipped her head to the side a little more. Another invitation!

It was while I was staking my claim on her with a series of lingering kisses on that creamy throat, taking my time to thoroughly enjoy it, from just behind her ear to her collarbone that I got her to make a lovely little moan and something that so far I'd only dreamed about. She called my name. No matter what you're thinking, you have no idea what sort of effect that has on me. Sometimes the sounds she makes are as arousing as anything else. I meant to answer her with her own name, but all I ended up doing was growling. About the same time what I found as I rubbed into those larger muscles along her back was that since she was so relaxed, her whole body moved - swayed almost – against me with the pressure from my hands. It was extremely sensual and not at all professional, let me tell you. It's no wonder masseurs use a table for their trade.

We didn't have a table – and if you were me, would you want one when the couch was just as handy? Mwahaha! Of course not! Once I'd rolled the chair over there, it was simply a matter of wrapping my arms tightly around her and just pulling her over onto the couch with me. _I_ would be the table, thank you very much! Oh, I know…very sneaky. Well, I wasn't evil for years and years for nothing, you know. She didn't protest. I was starting to think she's been as honest as I'd hoped in telling me she didn't want me to hold back. And I wasn't doing much of that anymore. As we fell back on the couch, she did look at me for a moment, smiling. It was more a look of contentedness and maybe a bit of amusement… and did I detect a slightly naughty look of satisfaction? Hmmm! When she initiated the kissing, I must say she was rather… aggressive. And I liked it.

I hadn't forgotten my hands in all this kissing. Well, I was supposed to be working on desensitizing them… right? It was fascinating searching out Roxanne's curves that so far I'd only been able to stare at longingly as I ran my hands down her. When it just about became too much to bear, I rested them around her waist just above the flare of her hips. So far I hadn't seriously considered the barrier of our clothes. My hands are sensitive enough to detect every curve and muscle under that cloth, but as we were lying there kissing and she was stroking along the sides of my head, just a bit of her midriff was exposed and of course my curious fingertips found it… wow. I had my hands up her shirt and exploring along her silky, bare skin before I even knew what I was doing. Oh god… this is _exactly_ why I had previously embraced a no-touching policy. Because once there, it was just so sublime I wasn't sure how it had happened or how I was going to extract myself again.

Added to all that she just smelled so good too. Sensory overload was… becoming imminent. Soap and perfume? They're nice, but most enticing is simply the smell of _her_. Her skin has a warm, comforting scent all its own. I suppose we all have our own skin scent, and of course I'm not talking about body odor. When you're nose is on someone that you love, and that person is whole-heartedly inviting, and she's even starting to play with your ears… well, you might find yourself doing a bit more snuffling and burrowing in and ear nipping back than you realized you were. I just could not get enough of her. And she was laughing about it. Or so I thought.

"All right… what have I done?"

"It's… um, it's the goatee, I think," she managed to say between giggles.

"What?" I rubbed it myself with a finger and thought about how it must feel to someone else.

"It tickles." Smiling, she reached up to stroke it too, as though it was a little pet.

"Oh really…"

"Yeah… kind of like a caterpillar."

"_What!_ Oh you did not just compare my fantastic facial hair to one of those… ewwy little beasts! Tell me you didn't!"

"Well, it is. Sort of…"

Straight-faced I informed her, "I'm afraid you're going to have to pay for that."

"Oh no!" Her eyes widened and I knew I was on to something. And since we were still supposed to be playing villain and damsel anyway, I indulged in a small e-vil laugh just before launching my first all-out goatee attack.

At first I thought it was her screeching laughter along with the evil chuckling I kept up that brought Minion on the run just in time to see us roll off the couch onto the floor. Did you know fish can blush? It's worth seeing! Sadly, his timing was due to something more pressing.

"Badnews! Um- you'rebeingpaged - I'llwaitinthecar! – ByeMsRicthie!" He said it so fast and disappeared again so quickly, it took a minute for the message to register, and compounding that was the fact that the majority of my brain was still dealing with a delicious overload of Roxanne-ness. I was lying there with my arms still wrapped around her, trying to force my unwilling mind to decipher his message because I'd fully forgotten that I was now expected to go out and save the city as needed, when she reminded me herself.

"Hey, hero… time to go save the day."

I looked at her and pouted. "Do I have to?" Laughing, she kissed me but said yes, I did.

As we extracted ourselves from each other and the floor and dusted off, I couldn't help complaining, "Hmph. There _are_ some drawbacks to being the hero apparently."

I know she thinks I'm funny, and this was a moment she seemed to find pretty amusing. I suppose it did sound rather trite considering everything we'd been through to come to this point, but what a time to have to run off for feats of daring-do. I watched her longingly as she straightened my collar up again, and couldn't resist sneaking in one last kiss or two, while she reassured me there were plenty of perks to be had. "Well, just because you have to leave now doesn't mean we can't come back to this later…" Now how could any man be expected to keep in mind what he's supposed to be doing when she makes an offer like that with a brow raised in a clear 'come hither' look? I nearly threw her back on the couch right then, I tell you! She's very quick though, is my Roxanne, and managed to fend off my attempts to knock her off-balance, laughing all the while of course. "Get going! Someone could be dying!"

"If they aren't dying, I might just kill them anyway," I growled.

She shook her head and gave me a last quick kiss that turned into a longer one. "I love you," she whispered as I hugged her tight and rubbed along her nose with mine, really wishing I didn't have to leave. "Remember that. And please be careful."

Yes, she can melt my heart in an instant. Caressing her, I told her I would indeed be careful. "I love you..." And then I tore myself away and ran to the car. Being a hero can really suck.


	5. A Step Back

I know... I know! You'd think that would have led to quite a _memorable_ homecoming. I can tell you that I watched him leave thinking I could not _wait_ for him to get back! But… it didn't work out that way. Unfortunately, a woman died that night through no fault of my wonderful blue boyfriend. The team of professional thieves he was up against was no problem. It was the new guy in the mix that panicked and shot their hostage who threw a wrench in what would otherwise have been a fairly simple job for the new hero. It was so quick and unexpected... no one could have done anything to save her, but of course Megamind took it hard, thinking that he should have been able to work miracles. I got called out to cover it too, and when we finally got back it was very late, and he was pretty shaken up. His face was pale and drawn. I've never seen him like that before, even after Titan. "Come here. I need to hold you." That was all he wanted that night, and I fell asleep with him still wrapped around me like he was afraid I'd disappear if he let go.

He _says_ he doesn't compare himself to Metro Man... but I think deep down he does. At least a little. Wayne made everything look too easy. I suppose when you're indestructible, and have unlimited strength, and immeasurable speed, laser vision, and the ability to fly… well heck, it probably is pretty easy running around saving people. That's a tough act to follow! That night it seemed like Megamind suddenly became aware of his limitations and his mortality… and mine. When it was just he and Minion playing the bad guys, they didn't worry about much. They didn't even worry about winning really. The bad guys are supposed to lose. That's why he was so shocked when the Death Ray apparently worked. And now the expectations of being a hero... people expecting him to succeed every time? That really started to weigh on him. We all kind of feel like we're immortal when we're young. For him, that feeling disappeared that night. It really hit him - he could die. The people relying on him could die. Worst of all, to his way of thinking, was that I could die. He must have said at least three times that night, "How would I live without you?"

He's always known, we both have, that the two of us having a relationship would put me at some risk. And it's not like he's one to shy away from violence. He's pretty familiar with it – prison life being what it is - but watching this woman bleed out before his eyes and trying to save her... but failing... yeah, that shook him up. All his insecurities came back home to roost. And it was like he took a big step back from me. Over the next few days he touched me less. The gloves even stayed on at times when I knew that before he would have taken them off. A few times I caught him watching me with this look on his face… I can't describe it, but I was half afraid he was about to say that he thought we shouldn't be together. When we had finally come so far! And yet, he couldn't seem to stay away from me either. He wanted to keep me near him. Made excuses to call over and over. It was rough. As much as I love being with him, I hated this. I hated seeing him doubt himself. I knew that's what he was doing. Plus it sucked being near him more but feeling like he was pulling away from me at the same time. It was probably the first time I really wished he didn't have to be a hero.

It was tempting to try to reassure him by saying all the usual things - there was nothing you or anybody could do, you did your best, all that - but it would have just sounded trite. This was a _major_ adjustment in thinking for him. Hard life truths he had to face. I couldn't deny that. I couldn't smooth it over or do it for him. He was just going to need time to come to terms with it. And let me tell you, I was bound and determined that while he did, what we'd worked so hard on and gained up to this point was _not_ going to come completely unraveled!

Not long after that night he was wanting some affection before heading out on patrol one evening… and he had those damned gloves on again! No, honestly, I saw him put them on and _then_ come to me. I was just too frustrated with the setbacks to let him get away with it. He had been doing _so well_ before. So, there he was, arms around me, nuzzling my neck, and I just coaxed one arm around and started taking that glove off. He stopped his snuggling, and in my peripheral vision I could see him watching me. The gloves are pretty tight. It takes a little doing to remove the things without turning them inside out. Once I got it off, I quietly reminded him, "No gloves."

He looked at me solemnly. "Roxanne…"

"No. I'm sorry," I said and kissed his blue fingertips. "No gloves. I need your hands." Then I deliberately put his bare hand around my waist and pulled him closer and pleaded, "I want you to put your hands on me."

The poor guy looked torn. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Megamind… you are not going to hurt me."

"No, you know what I mean. I never would do that, but… just by being with me, you end up being in danger. I put people in danger."

This was the old song and dance about him believing he was untouchable, and I knew where else it was leading. "You _save_ people from danger now. You're headed out on patrol right now. I'm no worse off with you than when I'm reporting at the scene of a crime."

"That's not quite true, and you know it." He frowned at me. "What if someone comes after you…to get to me."

"Then you'll save me."

He swallowed, making his Adam's apple bob. "What if I don't?"

I love this guy so much. It's not like I enjoy seeing him feeling so unsure of himself, but if I'm honest, he looks absolutely adorable when he's got that face that says he needs my reassurance. He needed a good long kiss, and I gave him one, running my hands gently over that big head for good measure. He needed to know I was willing to take the risks and would always love him, even when things didn't go according to plan. When I pulled my lips from his and looked at him, he still seemed uncertain. Those worries and guilty feelings had even more of a hold on him than I'd thought. "Megamind… I would rather die happy _with_ you than live miserably without you... " A pained look crossed his face when I mentioned dying. "And I would be _absolutely_ miserable. Please… sweetheart, please don't push me away."

He glanced away uncomfortably. "No… I can't. I've thought about it. I tried..." His hands caressed down my sides, and he looked at me guiltily. "But I want you too much."

"Good." Brushing his temple with the back of my fingers, I searched his eyes to see if my message was really getting through. "Because I want you too. I know what being with you is all about."

"Why is it you're so sure of my ability to keep you safe, and I'm not?"

Shrugging a little, I answered, "I guess because I believe in you more than you do in yourself. And I'm willing to accept whatever _might_ happen in order to have what I know we can_ make_ _happen_."

That finally brought a little sparkle to his eyes again. "We do make good things happen."

I couldn't help grinning as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and our noses bumped. He was coming back around. "Baby... we've barely just got started making good things happen..." That earned me an eyebrow lift, and I knew I had him. Rocking me in his arms, I finally got the kind of kiss I'd been missing… and pretty soon the other glove hit the floor.

* * *

><p>Yes, we had some setbacks. Never much of anything serious, but one that I didn't see coming was a problem he had with crowds. I mean... crowds? Come on! It <em>never<em> occurred to me that _that_ would trip him up. I had watched him play up to huge crowds of people for years. So I kind of thought being surrounded by adoring fans would be right up his alley. After the battle with Titan, he did overreact a little to everybody gathering around to congratulate him. I didn't think much about it at the time. We were both still running on pure adrenaline right then, so neither one of us was thinking clearly. I guess I just figured he was still in fight or flight mode. Actually, it was kind of funny at the time... but maybe I was a little delirious from the shock.

Then the day of the museum re-opening arrived. Up until then, he had been busy with so many things, he really didn't make many appearances except the interviews he'd done with me and some official business that wasn't open to the general public. He was seen out and about doing the hero thing (including when that poor woman died), but this was the first time everybody was invited to come and attend a function specifically for him as the city's new defender. And it looked like the whole city had turned out, but he was handling it fine. Stood on stage smiling and waving, cut the ribbon, we did our dance. It was a lot of fun! I only started to notice a change come over him when we were inside the museum with everybody milling around. It was really packed in there.

I had to shoot a segment for the news and lost track of him for a while. When I found him again, I had a feeling something wasn't right. He looked… uneasy, like he was trying to keep his back to the wall. People kept coming up to him, wanting to say hi, shake his hand, get an autograph, even just stand and stare at him. And well, he looked _nervous_ under that cocky demeanor he puts on. A little jumpy, but not in his usual way. You know how he acts for a crowd. He could give any rock star a run for their money. People eat that up. Of course now that he was supposed to be the _defender_ of Metro City, he was toning down the 'evil mastermind' angle, but I could see he was still working that public persona. It made me smile to watch him for a little while when he didn't know I was there. And yet… something wasn't quite right.

I started heading his way through the crowd, picking up a glass of champagne off a passing tray for him, when somebody spotted me and asked for my autograph. That was flattering! I may be on TV but it's not like I get asked for my autograph every day, so I signed with a smile and suddenly there was another request… and another. It's like when you feed seagulls. Once you throw one cracker in the air, there's a billion birds gathered around, waiting to be fed. Somehow I pushed through them all as politely as possible and over to where Megamind had been standing, but he wasn't there anymore. I looked around, wondering if he'd been taken off to meet someone important when Minion came up asking if I'd seen him.

"No. Where's he gone?"

Minion shook his head. "I don't know. I can't find him anywhere."

Frowning, I mentioned, "He was right here just a minute ago…" and turned around. There was a door behind us. I tried the handle and sure enough, it opened to reveal a pair of green eyes looking back at me sheepishly. Minion had his back to us, scanning over the heads of the crowd, so I slipped inside the closet and closed the door again quietly. We could hear him say, "Ms Ritchie, I… Oh, for Pete's sake! Now where has _she_ gone?"

We tried not to laugh and blow our cover while we listened to him walk away. Leaning against some shelves, I smiled down at Megamind, sitting there looking self-conscious in that dim little room. "Fancy meeting you here."

"What? Oh, you mean hanging out in a supply closet? Well, it's a hobby of mine. Once I spot a good storage cupboard, I can't stop myself from climbing in and trying it out. It must go back to my good old shool days… locked in the closet one too many times… rather puts me in mind of my home sweet cell back in the prison too." He motioned to the bare bulb above us like a game show model. "Check out the lovely light fixture."

I laughed. "Come on… what's up?"

He heaved a sigh and looked down, gesturing at his seat. "I've been sitting in here on this… giant box of toilet paper, how convenient… wondering that myself. What is wrong with me? One minute I was fine… then all of a sudden I had to get away from all those people out there. Getting closer and closer... Crowding in from all sides…" His eyes opened wider, and he snapped his fingers as though he'd just figured out the answer to the mystery he'd been sitting there puzzling over. "Oh! That's what it is! Prison…"

It took me a while to follow his logic because he'd stopped talking and was staring off in the distance. Revisiting old memories probably. Because I think what he meant was that in prison a crowd approaching you from multiple directions all at once was a really bad sign. I'm sure he learned that early on. And he knew how to fight his way out of it, but out there he had been having to resist the urge to do just that. Can you imagine if he'd snapped and cut loose? Uh, yeah. It could have been a bad scene! I shook my head, wishing I'd had better forethought about these things. There were so many previous experiences and so much conditioning he was having to overcome. I had an idea though, so I handed him the glass of champagne, interrupting his thoughts. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

By the time I snuck back into the closet again, closing the door behind me, I could see he was more relaxed. He'd had most of the glass although I hadn't been gone very long, and that was plenty for a guy his size. Especially at his first public function. We didn't need a tipsy hero! So just before he could raise the flute to his lips again, I took it and drained the rest myself.

"Hey! That was mine."

"You've had enough. I wanted you to relax, not get sloshed."

"Sloshed…" he huffed. "From a few sips?" He stood up and grabbed my hand, quickly pulling me over to him. Uh oh. I wondered if even those 'few sips' had still been too much. The glasses being handed around weren't small by any means. "I am _not_ sloshed," he informed me in a superior tone and gently pushed back the hair that always get in my eyes. "Where did you go anyway?"

"I made some arrangements for you," I explained, fingering the cape's white furry collar. He does look good in white and the symbolism for the stage show was perfect, but I honestly prefer him in black. Megamind in black... yeah. Hot. "They're getting it ready now. We'll just give them a few minutes before we head back out there."

"What is _it_?"

"You'll find out," I said, smiling and giving him a playful poke in the ribs.

"Oh! Going to keep it a surprise, huh?" A crafty smile spread over his face. "Well then… what shall we do to amuse ourselves for 'a few minutes', Ms Ritchie?"

Champagne is heady stuff. Heck, I could feel it, and I'd only had a big swallow. His mouth tasted sweet with it, and I mentally filed away his reaction for future reference. He wasn't having any problem using his hands this time. Or his tongue for that matter. If I'd known the fizzy stuff would have this effect on him, I would have popped a cork a long time ago. He was definitely relaxed, but... um… not completely. If you know what I mean. I had a feeling I knew what he'd spent his time thinking about while I was gone making preparations. And thinking of that reminded me that maybe it was kind of selfish to keep him all to myself in a closet, making out, while the rest of the city was waiting to greet their new defender. It took me some time to disengage from him enough to remind him of the celebration outside. Ok, actually it took some time before I could make myself _want_ to disengage. God, he's an amazing kisser. By now he had me up against the shelves and even as I tried to talk to him, he was still after me, his lips brushing along mine. "You're missing your party."

"Oh, I don't think so." His hands moved lower, pulling my hips away from the shelves and against him instead. "Everything's happening right here…"

A few more deep kisses, and he moved along to my ear. Wow… sometimes I think my ears are as sensitive as his. And he knows how to work them to his advantage. Between his nips and growling and what he was starting to do down at our hips, I was in trouble. I wanted this too much to drum up the willpower to stop it, and it certainly didn't look like he was going to. "Megamind… oh lord..."

"No?" The champagne wasn't affecting him so much that he couldn't tell I was holding back a little, but he was still making it clear what he wanted… and I really wanted it too.

"Oh, sweetheart, yes… but…" I had to laugh a little. "We're in a closet. And everybody's waiting… the party is supposed to be for you."

"Oh, believe me…" he breathed on my ear, "this is the best party I have ever been to…" He French kissed me and then started using those incredible blue lips down the side of my neck as he slipped one long, lean hand under my dress and along my thigh. Ok, who was I to try to make him go out to meet and greet the public if he didn't want to? My leg just seemed to find its way up along his side all on its own, I swear, and once it was there he started exploring down a lot farther. Oh my gosh, he's got talented fingers. I had to bite my lip to stop myself getting too loud. Not that I would have minded making some noise, but I didn't want somebody to hear us and open the door. When I tightened my arms around his shoulders while I was having my turn working on _his_ ears, I realized he still had that white cape on - Wayne's cape - and I did not want anything reminding me of _him_ right then, as I'm sure you can understand. So I fumbled to undo the clasp - my hands might have been shaking a little - just as Megs was slipping an article of clothing off of me as well. Then he put his arms under my hips and lifted me up against him while I kissed every bit of his face. Yes, he lifted me up... easily. He's a lot stronger than he looks.

If I could find out which brainbot worked on that closet, I'd throw a wrench for it all day. There was one low shelf at just the right height that he sat me on the edge of… And it wasn't long before my big-headed blue boyfriend wasn't a virgin anymore. Luckily he wasn't wearing the protective one-piece suit he puts on before battles under his clothes. It would have made this whole event a lot trickier! But, man, I think I could have had it off him in record time if necessary. It was almost as awesome watching his reaction to it all as it was for me to finally have what I'd been wanting so much. I knew it was his first time, and even though he was as gentle as he could be getting started, he was no shrinking violet. We are talking about Megamind here. He certainly wasn't as worried about noise as I had been.

"Roxanne...Rox-...oh god, you're wonderful..." I couldn't keep _all_ my reactions under control, even though I was trying very hard not to be too loud. He seemed to like hearing me though and pulled me against him harder when I made it obvious I was enjoying everything he was doing. Then I leaned back to let him in deeper. "...ooooh my GOD..." Pretty easy to tell what he likes! And he wasn't afraid to look in my eyes. That surprised me - sex is so much more intimate that way. I really felt more vulnerable with him than I ever have before. But I trusted him more than anybody I've ever been with. The guys I've known - and it's not like I've been with that many - always kept their eyes closed or didn't bother to look me in the face much. Megs wanted to see me while we made love. That was really touching. I knew he wanted _me_, that he was making love to me, not just thinking about having sex. It wasn't until his peak that he closed his eyes to give in to that first taste of bliss.

All that champagne seemed to have evaporated away from him by that time too, and when he could talk again he kind of seemed surprised at himself. Obviously this hadn't been planned! I was holding him close and waiting for him to recover when I heard him gasp, "Oh my god… I just got the girl…" That's my Megamind! He never loses his sense of humor! I had to laugh and even half-jokingly congratulated him, but he looked at me, still breathing deeply, and added, "Roxanne… this isn't at all what I thought our first time would be like. I'm –"

"Don't say your sorry!" I interrupted him quickly. "Don't say that. _I'm_ not sorry at all." His expression seemed to say that he wasn't sure if he should have done something more, so I kissed him and caressed that blue face that I love so much. "Megamind… I'm so happy this finally happened. I've been waiting for a _long_ _time_!"

With a chuckle he finally relaxed and squeezed me closer and assured me I wasn't the only one. "But… what about you?" he asked, looking at me meaningfully.

I understood what he meant, even though really, for that first time, I was a lot more interested in making it right for him. "You can take care of me tonight," I suggested, making him smile while I ran a finger down his goatee and kissed it.

"Yes. Count on it." We kissed a bit longer, enjoying the moment and fixing that memory in our minds until the shelves started feeling uncomfortably hard, and then we went about making ourselves presentable again.

"Minion's probably wondering what the heck happened to us," I mentioned, smoothing out my dress.

With a throaty chuckle and a smirk, he put an arm around my waist before opening the door and said, "Let him wonder." One last, sweet, lingering kiss and out we went, as casually as possible. Kind of hard to pull off when you're trying not to grin like a pair of idiots.

"We might have to immortalize that closet with a plaque…" he muttered and looked over at me with a smile. "And your dress too."

"Remind me later to buy a few bottles of champagne to keep around the apartment," I mentioned. "Well... never mind… I'm pretty sure I'll remember." We snickered all the way down the escalator, holding hands, trying not to be too obvious, and finally arrived at the spot where I'd asked Minion to set up a table covered in a blue cloth and Megamind's big black chair fetched by the brainbots from the lair. People were already lined up in front of it, waiting for him to sit down. I turned to him to make sure his cape was straight. "There you are. Now you can meet people one at a time and sign autographs without being mobbed. And all from the comfort of your favorite chair."

He stared at it, realizing I'd come up with the simple set-up as a barrier to keep people from pushing into his comfort zone. Smiling at me appreciatively, he pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "You are amazing in every possible way."

"You can thank me later," I murmured back and watched him walk confidently over to take care of business.


	6. A Woman's Work

That evening I was standing in the kitchen in my robe, holding open the doors to the drinks cabinet and looking at the selection of bottles, trying to decide what we might like to have to celebrate the evening ahead. Neither one of us had had any more champagne at the party. We were intoxicated enough, catching each other's eyes and smiling about our secret the rest of the day. Just thinking about that closet gave me goose bumps. First times are always exciting, but the risk of possibly being caught had made it feel kind of rushed and dangerous too. Anticipating what could happen next with my former captor made my heart rate rise. Before long I had to shake myself back to reality, realizing I was still standing there staring up at the shelves.

Schnapps would be too sweet. Megamind definitely has a sweet tooth and with enough of that he might end up asleep before the night could get interesting. I remembered his champagne-flavored kisses and thought he might taste good in rum. Or what about some wine? Then I was starting to wonder if it would be better not having anything at all when I jumped as two arms slid around my waist. He can be completely silent when he wants to be! I thought he was still in the bathroom having a shower. I'd had mine first. But suddenly there he was behind me, rubbing that cute blue nose along my ear.

"Did I scare you?"

I smiled, recognizing the same seductive voice he used to beguile me with when I was tied up in 'the chair'. It didn't matter that he wasn't a villain anymore, he's always enjoyed catching me off guard, and he still does. "You startled me," I admitted and looked down to admire and run my palms along those tightly muscled blue arms around me, noticing they were bare. "Hmm, shirtless. Are you missing the rest of your clothes too?"

He chuckled in my ear. "I was starting to put them back on, but then I thought… why waste time?"

"Well… it might be fun for me to take your clothes off of you."

"Ugh! Not this thing," he groused about his trademark suit, which of course he'd worn for the museum re-opening and his dedication as Metro City's new defender. "It's a pain. I mean, of course it's been designed to give me a lot of advantages I need, but it's not that easy to put on and take off. That's why I have the brainbots act as my valets." He kissed my shoulder softly. "But tonight you may amuse yourself dealing with my pants, if you like."

With a smile, I reached back and ran my hands down the sides of his torso onto his hips as he stood just behind me. Yes, the lower half of his suit was there, those tight black and blue pants, minus the spiked belt. "Somehow I have a feeling they're going to come off very easily." Again that chuckle vibrated near my ear as he smiled against my shoulder and hugged me tighter. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Oh, I don't think so." I felt his lips slowly brush up the side of my neck. "I'd really rather not have anything dulling my senses this time." He kissed his way back down and then paused at a certain spot where my neck and shoulder meet. "I can feel your pulse, Roxanne… Your heart is beating quite fast… for some reason." I got a chill at the sound of his voice. It was that low, purring tone he uses that makes me putty in his hands, the same voice he uses when we're on the phone, planning when and where to meet. The voice he used in his former evil personna.

"I don't know why that would be," I demurred as I closed the cabinet. "Other than being just… _slightly_ excited about finally spending the night with this man that I've been in love with for years and only just got to be with for the first time today."

"Mmmm… my heart is racing too." Then tipping his head the other way, his lips tickled along the nape of my neck. "I could not be more happy or excited about this." He sharply nipped the skin at my hairline, and a shiver spread from my spine outward, like an electric pulse. I gave a quick gasp, feeling the hair stand up on the back of my neck. With the two of us pressed so close together, he felt that quiver with his whole body. "Shivers? Am I actually giving you shivers, Ms Ritchie?"

"Yes…"

He kissed the spot he'd bitten. One hand slipped into the front of my robe and began caressing my hip, stroking along the edge of my panties, special lingerie I'd slipped back into for the occasion. "I do _love_ knowing I can have that effect on you now." He explored under the slender band of fabric at the side and moved lazily down toward the wider triangle in front but then stopped and went back again before traveling too far.

"Megamind… you've always been able to have that effect on me."

"I have?"

"We've just never been close enough so you could feel it before."

Placing kisses along my ear, he murmured, "I really wish I'd known… but it would have made the temptation to ravage your lovely body that much harder to resist." With a steady tug he untied the sash of my robe, and slid his left hand inside along my ribs, adding, "In fact, I don't think I would have been able to resist."

"Well, there's no need to now," I told him, placing my hand over the top of his. "Make me shiver all you want."

"I'm going to do my best," he assured me, and then dropped his voice even lower, "And before the night's through… I am finally going to get you to scream for me as well."

Resting my head back on his shoulder and closing my eyes with a sigh, I thought of how I loved the feeling of his hands confidently exploring me. "Mmm… I have _no_ doubt you will."

It was when I was silently congratulating myself on the success of my desensitization program that I heard him breathe a quiet groan as his lips nuzzled along my neck, "Roxanne... I really don't think I've been... completely desensitized just yet. Because this is just... overwhelming..."

I couldn't hide a smile and hugged his arms tighter around me. "Well, sweetheart, you know what they say."

"What?"

"A woman's work is never done."

I could hear the smile in his voice as he breathed against my ear, "Thank God for that..."


End file.
